


Poetic Justice

by StBridget



Series: The Spies and the Baby [6]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Dark, Gen, Revenge, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StBridget/pseuds/StBridget
Summary: Jack finally catches up with Kelly's father.





	Poetic Justice

**Author's Note:**

> MacGyver is property of CBS and its creators.
> 
> Warning: Jack shoots Kelly's father in the balls.
> 
> It's not that dark, but it's definitely not a warm, fuzzy, happy fic.

The tac team closed in on the cabin. It was situated in a small clearing surrounded by dense forest, so they were confident their quarry had little chance of escaping, especially since they’d already disabled the two vehicles parked outside. Infrared had confirmed two people inside, and surveillance had confirmed two men living there and few visitors. These had to be James and Jesse Burns, the men they were looking for.

 

Jack gave the signal, and the team stormed the cabin. They didn’t bother with knocking; Jack kicked the door in with one firm kick, and they stormed inside. Jack was really glad they weren’t law enforcement and didn’t have to worry about niceties like announcing themselves first. Sure, he could easily justify it by saying the men were known extremists and heavily armed (another fact confirmed by surveillance), but it was nice not to have to.

 

“Freeze! Hands in the air!” Jack shouted, aiming his gun at the well-dressed man lounging on the ratty, overstuffed couch. The man looked utterly out of place in the rustic setting. Who the fuck wore a dress shirt and loafers in a cabin in the middle of Montana? And how could he possibly be so well-groomed after seven months in the wilderness? Clearly, the arrogant prick thought he was better than everyone else. That made Jack’s blood boil. The son of a bitch had abandoned someone near and dear to Jack, and he had the gall to sit there looking mildly surprised as though Jack and his team had crashed a country club brunch, not a terrorist’s hideout.

 

“What the fuck?!?” A second man appeared in the door of what appeared to be a kitchen, holding plates piled high with hot, fragrant eggs and bacon. Clearly, Jack and his team had interrupted breakfast. They’d timed their raid for dawn, hoping to catch the men asleep, but apparently domestic terrorists were morning people. Who knew? The second man dropped the plates which fell with a crash, food flying everywhere, and bolted for the rear door of the cabin.

 

Jack waved one of his teammates to follow, and the agent took off. Jack had no doubt he would catch the fleeing man, so he didn’t bother to turn his attention from the man he was staring at.

 

The man, James Burns, looked haughty. “I don’t know what you gentlemen think you’re doing, but I assure you, I’ve done nothing wrong. I’m simply a businessman enjoying a vacation with his brother.”

 

“For the past seven months?”

 

The man shrugged. “What can I say? Life’s hectic. I needed a change of pace.”

 

“Needed to lay low after bombing a bunch of mosques and synagogues, more like,” Jack growled.

 

“You can’t prove anything,” Burns said.

 

“See, here’s the thing,” Jack said, conversationally, gun never wavering, “I’m not the police, or the FBI, or anyone like that. I’m not even Homeland Security or the CIA. I’m from an agency so off the books, no one ever mentions it in polite society. You know what that means?”

 

“Can’t say that I do,” Burns said. He still looked unconcerned. Jack couldn’t wait to rattle his cage.

 

“It means I don’t have to worry about things like evidence, or warrants, or nasty, inconvenient police brutality laws. It means all I have to do is drag your ass off to a deep, dark hole and let somebody else sort everything out.”

 

Burns was starting to look worried. “Look, I’ll go quietly. I promise.”

 

“See, I don’t really care whether you do or not,” Jack said. “Cause, see, I’ve got a personal beef to pick with you, and frankly, I’d just as soon shoot you where you are.”

 

That got a reaction out of Burns. “You can’t do that! I’m unarmed! There’s laws!”

 

“First of all,” Jack said, “you’re hardly helpless. You may not have any weapons on you, but there’s a shotgun, a revolver, and four knives within easy reach, and I’m confident, despite your pansy appearance, you know how to use them. Second, we’ve already determined little things like laws don’t mean anything to me.”

 

“What did I ever do to you?” Burns asked.

 

“It’s not what you did to me,” Jack said, “it’s what you did to someone very important to me.”

 

Burns regained his composure a little. “Let me guess. You’re one of those military guys who went and married a Muslim girl. Did one of my bombs kill your sweetie? Poor you, I’m heartbroken. Not.”

 

Jack’s face was grim, and he fought hard not to pull the trigger. As he’d said, Jack wasn’t concerned with the ramifications of shooting Burns, but he wanted to make damn sure Burns knew why Jack hated him so much. “No, what you did was worse. You abandoned a helpless baby and left her to die.”

 

“That brat?” Burns said. “Good riddance. What’s she to you?”

 

Restraining himself was getting harder and harder. “She means more to me than she clearly ever did to you. You should rot in hell for what you did.”

 

“I’m going to rot in hell for a lot of things,” Burns said. “That’s the least of my worries. Whatever happened to her, anyway?”

 

“Don’t pretend you care,” Jack said, angrily. “You walked off and left her. I’m just glad she’s where you can never reach her again.”

 

“Like I’d want to,” Burns scoffed.

 

Jack had had enough conversation. He gestured at Burns with his gun. “Stand up.” Burns didn’t move. Jack aimed the gun at Burns’ heart, finger slowly squeezing the trigger. “I said, stand up,” Jack growled.

 

Burns visibly shook. He raised his hands and stood up, slowly. “You’re not really going to shoot me, are you?”

 

“I should,” Jack said, voice cold. “I should, but that would be far too merciful, for any of your crimes.”

 

“So, what are you going to do?”

 

Jack shrugged. “As far as the bombings go, like I said earlier, I’m going to throw you in a hole and let somebody else sort it out. As far as abandoning Kelly goes,” Jack dropped his aim slightly, “I’m going to make sure you can never do anything like that again.” He fired.

 

Burns screamed as the bullet tore into him. “Help me! I’m bleeding out!”

 

Jack was unimpressed. “Nah. You’ll bleed like a stuck pig, and it’ll hurt like a bitch, but you’ll be fine. Although I think you will find having kids might pose a small problem.”

 

One of Jack’s teammates snorted. “Jesus, Dalton, did you have to shoot him in the balls?”

 

“I don’t think it’s any less than he deserves,” Jack said, grimly, holstering his gun and moving to secure Burns.

 

“That’s definitely poetic justice,” another member of the team said.

 

“You bet your ass it is,” Jack said.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've pretty much had this planned since the beginning; it just took me a while to get around to writing it. Hope you found it as satisfying as I did!


End file.
